What's Built in the Basement Doesn't Stay in the Basement
by TheGirlWhoWoreNeon
Summary: Haley Green has been working on a time machine for more than half a year. Somehow, her project is a success. But because she only thought Panem was fictional and that The Hunger Games would never exist, she makes a trip 200 years into the future and suddenly finds herself completely trapped in an arena where everyone is trying to kill her- including her Hunger Games Hero.
1. Chapter 1

"Haley, would you please just set the tools down for tonight?" My dad asked while holding a plate, impatiently tapping on it. "We're all waiting for you."

"Can I just have five more minutes? Please?" I asked. "You guys can start without me. I'll come to dinner in a minute."

He sighed and walked back up the stairs. _It's not easy being a 9__th __grade genius, _I wanted to say. My parents never approved greatly of my machine work. Sure, if it would have been on cars, they probably wouldn't be so irritable about it. But here's the thing- it wasn't on cars.

Explanation? Fine. It had all started two years before, when I was on the brink of wanting to get myself expelled from 7th grade. Everything just seemed impossible. The hormones, the bullies, the teachers, the math… Oh, and P.E. Never ever let anyone tell you that P.E. is fun. I'm sorry, but sweating drops, getting pelted with hard rubber dodge balls, and all the while having a gung-ho man yelling at you to be more aggressive is not my idea of amusing.

Anyway, it was at this time when my dad cleaned out our attic and found a box of his favorite childhood books. See, my dad was no ordinary kid. The absolute only thing he read was science fiction books. Nothing else at all.

"I'm sure you would like this one," he'd said. He gave me a book about time travel that was the least dusty of all of them. "It was my favorite."

I had thanked him rather unenthusiastically. However, that night, I opened the book on a whim….

BAM! Within the very first page, I was hooked. Absolutely hooked. Out of the four-hundred and seventy-nine pages I was more than three quarters of the way done with it before my eyes decided to shut on their own. As soon as I awoke in the morning, I was dying to know how it ended. That became the first day I'd ever skipped school.

Sometimes a book is all it takes to change a person's viewpoint on life. And oh boy was mine changed. I began checking out every single time travel book that the library had in their district. And when I'd read every possible thing in my county, I began taking the half an hour walk to the adjoining district and reading all of their time travelling books as well. Along the way, I'd picked up a gold mine of information. 8th grade left my science teacher astonished at how much I knew. It was then that I decided, _What is there to stop me from taking this to the next level?_

Time travel has been tried and been failed a million times- the only successes are in sci-fi books. But I had complete determination, nearly six hundred books, and a handy best guy friend at my disposal. How hard could it be?

The answer: hard.

It took six months alone to even design the software. And don't take those six months for granted. It was two and a half months of working full time through summer vacation, and three and a half months of barely even attending school during my freshman year. I asked my dad's opinion whenever I could, but he couldn't even understand what I was talking about most of the time. I knew the words "I shouldn't have given her that book" went through his mind every time he saw me.

The people at school laughed once the word got out that I was attempting to build a time machine. I couldn't even walk up and down the halls without hearing the words "science", "time", and "nerd".

But I would just have to show them.

It was now six o'clock on a cold day in late November. Every heater in the house was on except for the one in the basement A.K.A. my laboratory (or as my twelve year-old brother called it, "Haley's mad science lab"). The actual machine part of the time machine was currently in careful construction. I had let my friend Josh go home two hours ago. He helped with most of the building. Even though he knew that the whole machine idea would probably fail, and even if it didn't, that he wouldn't get to use it because of the level of his software knowledge, he still pledged himself one hundred percent to helping me achieve my dreams. I was seriously thinking about giving him more than half of the Nobel prize money I won when this thing was finished.

I tightened a washer as much as it could be on the base board of the machine. I stepped back for a minute and wiped my forehead with my arm. The machine was looking much unfinished, and yet I knew there wasn't much more that needed to be done to get it up and running. I'd taken two cushions from an old couch that my mom insisted we get rid of and had attached them to the already-finished bench of the machine. There was a backboard on the seat that was almost four feet tall. And under the cushions and the thick wooden board they were attached to was the most important part of the machine; the wiring. A box the size of a computer tower sat in the middle, but hundreds of colorful cords went out of it in every direction. The cords attached to everything from the levers up front, to the buttons, and to the small solar panels that sat securely behind the seat, taking power from any kind of light.

"I probably should have put in a weight controller," I mumbled to myself. I was only half-serious though; it would have taken at least two months just to make a weight controller.

Who am I kidding? You probably don't even know what a weight controller is.

I used up the rest of my five minutes wrapping neon duct tape around each of its respective handles. The pink went one the overall activate switch, the blue went on the "Choose Time Destination" lever, and last but certainly not least was the orange, which was basically your ticket to another time period.

"Haley!" I heard my mom call. "Your time is up!"

"I'm coming, mom!" I said, standing up and calling it quits for about thirty minutes.

Throughout dinner, I felt everyone in my family casting nervous glances on me. What? It's not like I'd tapped into their finances on this whole project. But I think that's what scared them the most- that I was "blowing" my own money. That I would spend my whole life being "ridiculed". That I would always be trying something new and rebellious like I already had.

Really, family members can overreact about things that are so simple- like rocket science, which was actually a miniscule part of what I was putting in to this whole time machine project.


	2. Chapter 2

The next week went agonizingly slow. Every day, I knew that the time machine was so close to being finished, but still had minimal adjustments to be made. Josh was probably as impatient as I was, but he probably just wanted to see it fail so he could stop going straight from school to my house every day.

Finally, in exactly nine more days, the incredible invention was complete. Josh stood beside me and we both stared at it for a minute. "So… It's finished?" He questioned.

I nodded. Do you know that feeling you get when you're so unbelievably excited? It's like a mixture of chills and sweat all over. I had goose bumps everywhere, and it wasn't just because of the fifty-degree room.

"Are you going to tell your parents?" Josh asked.

Now I shook my head. "No way. They'll either stand by and watch me fail, or freak out when I head off to some different time period. I'll just need someone to cover for me if this thing actually works." I shot a look at him.

It only took him a second to figure out what I was thinking. "Oh no, you're not getting me to lie to your parents about this thing. Besides, why make that promise when I most likely can't keep it?"

"Why can't you keep it?"

"Hello? I have a family too," he said. "How long are you exactly planning to be in whatever time period you choose? Days? Months? I have other things to do."

"Fine," I said, sitting on one of the cushions in the machine. "Thank you for your help, Josh, but that's all I need now. I'll give you your part of the prize money."

I wanted so badly to ask him to come with me. But I knew Josh too well. He would never get in some eccentric contraption- whether it worked or not. So, with him standing there, I flipped the machine on. The only way you can tell that it's on is because the seat underneath you immediately gets warmer from the hot engine underneath. I decided on a random time to go to- the year 2212- and held my breath. I took hold of the orange lever and looked at Josh. He shook his head like I was crazy.

And that gave me the rest of my determination. I pulled the lever and held on to the handle bar in front of me.

A whole minute passed with me closing my eyes. I didn't hear anything at all. I wondered if it would be hotter in the future because of global warming. Maybe I could become famous for telling people about the past, or if I came back to the present to tell people about what would happen in the future. Would we lose any wars? Would there be some kind of new flying vehicles? Would Suzanne Collins re-write the end of Mockingjay so that none of the good characters died?

I hoped most for the latter of these three.

But as I opened my right eye to see what was happening, disappointment and anger flooded through me.

I was still in the basement of my house.

Josh was staring at me like I was an idiot.

I'd wasted months on this ridiculous machine.

I pushed the orange lever back up and deactivated the machine. Josh shook his head and walked up the stairs. A few seconds later I heard our front door open and close.

I wanted to cry. And scream. And tear the stupid contraption apart with my bare hands. But I'm pretty sure that all I did was sit in the machine and stare at the buttons in front of me, wishing desperately that I could make the time machine work at least once, so I could go back to 8th grade and never start the project again.

What would I say to my friends? My family? My classmates? I was doomed to a life a sci-fi movies and books that always seemed completely unrealistic.

I probably sat in the machine for an hour. I needed to read. Every time I was disappointed or sad, I would read my favorite book. But suddenly time travel books weren't my favorite anymore. I wanted to read something that didn't remind me of my disappointment.

I ran up the stairs and into my room, with its sci-fi movie posters and tiny little figurines of futuristic characters. I ignored them and went straight to my bookshelf. Unfortunately, almost every single book was about some kind of time travel or spaceship.

_The Trouble of Time_

No.

_The Ultimate Sci-Fi Movie Guide_

No.

_How to Work with Wires- For Dummies_

No way.

_The Hunger Games._

I contemplated it. Before I'd gone on a science-fiction rage, The Hunger Games had been my favorite book. You take a bunch of teenagers with weapons and food piled in the traditional Thanksgiving way and everyone sort of goes crazy to read it, I guess.

I pulled the book off the shelf and opened it in a random place. It was the part where Katniss was sawing off the tree branch with the Tracker Jacker nest attached to it. I read with anxiety- because no matter how many times I replayed this scene in my head, I just couldn't imagine how painful a Tracker Jacker sting would be. I wandered aimlessly around the house, occasionally bumping into walls that came out of nowhere. Some of the less sophisticated girls at school did this while texting.

I don't exactly know how- maybe it was from months of heading down there to think- but in some twist of fate, I ended up in the basement. I stopped reading and rubbed my arms in an attempt to warm them up. That was when I saw the time machine, sitting there innocently like it hadn't just ruined my life.

I went over to the thing, book in hand, and kicked the side of it. I could just imagine that evil machine thinking, _Oh, you wanna play it that way? Fine. _Because afterwards, my foot hurt pretty badly from being violent to a thick piece of wood.

I was obviously losing my mind.

I stepped on to the baseboard of the machine and kicked the wooden shell below the seat, which is where the engine was. That hurt too. To try something less painful, I flicked the pink switch on and off multiple times.

But I must have left it on, because when I moved on to cranking the orange lever down, I found my self stumbling onto the seat as the time machine moved forward at an incredible speed.

Was this actually happening? I couldn't tell. Maybe I'd fallen asleep somewhere while reading my book and was dreaming. It didn't seem likely, but neither did this.

I closed my eyes tightly, suddenly wanting to wake up and forget all of this. But nothing happened. The time machine, the thing I'd spent more than half a year on, was working.

Suddenly, I felt a rapid stop occur. It jolted me forward and I hit my forehead on the handlebar. I stood up, rubbing my forehead, and realized my surroundings.

It was a thick forest. And there were ponds and other bodies of water everywhere. Somewhere in the distance, I heard some sort of helicopter.

This was not what I had expected 2212 to be like.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Just in case this matters, I definitely do not own The Hunger Games. It is property of Suzanne Collins. If I owned The Hunger Games, I wouldn't have made Finnick die. **

**And thanks for the review! It would really help me if people reviewed this story so I can make it even better :D I promise that there will be some dialogue in the next chapter, haha.**

I continued to take in my surroundings. The trees were the tallest I'd seen in my entire life. But they had no limbs at all except for some that were hundreds of feet up. The bark was almost synthetic looking.

I set down my book on the seat of the time machine and cautiously walked over to the nearest pond. I found a pinecone on the ground and tossed it into the water. Well, at least I now knew that there was no volcanic acid in the water from a deadly eruption.

Well, that sentence didn't really make sense.

I guess I just assumed that some kind of disaster had happened, being that there were absolutely no people around. Or were there? I couldn't tell. I was obviously submerged deep into a forest, after all. I could walk around, but only at my own risk. Who knew what kind of animals there were in these woods? And even worse, what if someone found my time machine and took off to some other time period in it?

I turned around and noticed the seat on the machine was giving off steam. I quickly went over and turned it off, to prevent overheating. What could I do? Go back to my own house in the past? I would have liked to, but I didn't know if the machine would work again. It hadn't worked the first time, and who knew if it would now? Besides, if I wanted to see the gadgets of the future, I couldn't exactly do that while I was stranded in a forest.

I flipped the switch and set the time period for 2012. My hand was literally on the orange lever when some sort of long object suddenly lodged into the seat of the machine. Strangely, I was more concerned about the machine blowing me up than whoever launched the long thing. I quickly jumped to the opposite side of the contraption and covered my head. But after two minutes of nothing happening, I carefully stood up. I brushed the moist dirt off of myself the best I could.

But now I had a new concern. I heard some sort of metal clanging on something and looked to the side of the time machine that had been ruptured. A girl was pulling an arrow out and she quickly loaded it into her bow again. I gasped and ran, knowing that her target was me.

Let me tell you something; if your P.E. coach is trying to condition you, he should point an arrow at your back and tell you to run. I'd never sprinted so fast in my life. How fast could people run with a loaded bow in their hands? I didn't know, but it wasn't like I was about to look backwards and check.

Who needs a time machine when you have an arrow sticking out of your back? Maybe she would leave my machine alone until I could get back to it. But at that moment, I needed to focus on a hiding place. Where did this forest end? All I saw in front of me were trees that stood hundreds of feet tall and had no reachable limbs to climb. I could attempt hiding behind a thick tree, but again, I didn't know how far behind me the hostile female was and if she would be able to see me jump behind a tree.

I was getting to the point of gasping while running. I suddenly wished I hadn't spent so much time cramped in a basement or reading hundreds of books only to get to a place where I needed serious physical conditioning. I could barely hold my head up.

It was then that I couldn't take it anymore. I dropped to the ground, as if my life wasn't so important. I closed my eyes and thought of nothing but cloudless skies, overflowing with a beautiful blue. I imagined myself floating up into the air, and looking down at the amazingly green grass that was also unrealistic in my current circumstances.

When reality hit me in the form of an adrenaline headache, I wondered why I wasn't dead yet. Against my better judgment, I opened my eyes. But there was no one around at all. Either the girl was too intrigued by my time machine, or she didn't have as much endurance as me and couldn't keep up. But I accepted the fact that I was safe for now.

I lay there against my mental wishes, but not against my body's wishes of course. I knew I couldn't just stay in one place forever; I needed to find some sort of hiding place, or, even better, get back to the machine. So I stood up and tried to keep my legs from collapsing underneath of me.

I deeply considered taking the risk of going back to my machine. But it was then that I remembered something; the girl had shot an arrow directly at the engine. Whether it had gone through the wood or not, I didn't know. But going back and possibly being killed just to see a broken time machine didn't seem worth it. So I wandered even further from my starting place, wanting to at least find a safe stopping point.

Where was I? It seemed like if I left the past in my basement, I would have remained in that same place in a later time period. Maybe I was. Maybe my house had been demolished along with the rest of my whole neighborhood for some "Save the Trees" sort of thing. It was sketchy, but hey, do you have any better ideas?

I walked for an unknown amount of time. All I knew was that my legs said it was a long time. But at last, the shining ray of hope came into my own story like it did in so many books. More than a hundred feet away was a cave. Sure, it was the smallest thing a cave could be, with its width being approximately six feet wide, but at least it was a shelter from any kind of weather extremes that could occur during my unfortunate trip to the future.

I sat down inside the cave and had to duck my head slightly in order to not hit it on the ceiling. A thousand questions went through my head.

What if the girl destroyed the time machine?

What if she somehow took it back to the future and I was stuck in this place?

Why was she trying to kill me?

Was I still in America?

Was I even in a different time period at all, or had I just somehow gone to a different location in the year 2012?

I considered all of these.

I almost cried. Almost. I probably would have if I didn't notice a beeping noise coming from outside the cave. I stuck my head out the entrance, but quickly pulled it back. I saw a teenage boy, probably only slightly older than me, with a terrible gash in his left arm. But when I carefully looked again, I noticed the miniature silver parachute floating down from the sky towards him. He opened it and actually smiled despite his situation. It was some kind of medicine that he began rubbing on his wound.

That's when the revelation hit me.

The teenage girl that was trying to kill me.

The nearly fake-looking trees that were everywhere.

The injured teenage boy that received medicine from a silver parachute.

_I'm in The Hunger Games._


	4. Chapter 4

Hold on- _The Hunger Games? _How had my time machine jumped me in to some fictional place? The Hunger Games weren't real…

Or were they?

Ok, let's say The Hunger Games were happening two hundred years later… How would I get cast into the arena? It was then that I remembered the book that I was holding while I messed with the machine.

So, now what? Being lost in a natural forest with a girl out to get you was one thing. But being completely trapped in an arena where there are at most twenty-three people trying to kill you and having some malicious gamemakers with "natural" killing machines is another.

If this was the case, my situation had become much more urgent.

So, was Katniss suddenly going to appear out of nowhere and shoot me with her bow? No, that couldn't be right. In the book it said that there was only one bow in the games, and the brutal blonde-haired girl had used it to shoot at me. So, was the blonde girl Glimmer? It couldn't be. The girl I'd seen had nice blonde hair, but that was really the only resemblance to Glimmer. The girl had a ruddy complexion and was slightly overweight. She looked as if she should be carrying a deadly mallet to swing instead of a bow.

So which Hunger Games, if at all, was I in? Whatever the case, I dearly hoped I wouldn't be killed by some will-be victor.

The boy outside my cave rested against a tree for a while, pulling things out of a backpack and counting them. Suddenly, that lousy excuse for beef he had looked appetizing. If I'd had some sort of weapon at the moment, I might have been able to take advantage of him and get the food….

What was I thinking? Is a little hunger all it takes for a person to commit murder? It's a good thing I was born in a time when you could go to the store and easily buy a pack of bacon.

Oh, bacon. That sounded like the world's greatest invention at the time.

The boy suddenly looked in my direction. He obviously hadn't noticed the concealed cave near him. He quickly put the things back in his pack and put the strap on one of his shoulders. I thought it wasn't very intelligent, but he slowly came toward the cave. I scooted back as far as I could, ready to spontaneously pounce if the need arose.

I didn't mean to hold my breath, but somehow it wouldn't come out. He came closer, and closer…

In one quick motion, he swooped down and stared right at me as I sat defenseless in the cave. Suddenly all thoughts of defense escaped my mind and I was left motionless, awaiting my painful death.

To my surprise, though, he just held out his hand for me. I was experiencing a rush of different emotions, and wasn't sure whether to take the offer or not. But my hand obviously knew what it was doing. Somehow I took his offer and stood up. Shockingly, he smiled at me.

"What are you smiling about?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm just wondering if you already have an ally or if you need one." His voice was rather hoarse, and his tone seemed naturally sarcastic.

"Well, I don't because-"

"Okay," he said, cutting me off. "You can team up with me. I'm Canton."

"But I-"

"Do you have any supplies?"

Well, Canton didn't have the best people skills, but I didn't have much to lose. "No. But I do have some advice for you."

"What? Unless it's something to get me out of these stupid Games, I don't care what it is."

"First of all, stop talking. It would help me a lot if you would just shut up. And my advice is that you tell me what Hunger Games this is and I might have a way to get us out."

He raised an eyebrow. "You certainly aren't very shy, considering I could kill you by mere force right now. This is the 65th annual Hunger Games." There was more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "May the odds be ever in your favor."

The 65th Hunger Games… Was there any significance in that one? Probably not. Probably so I could just be killed off and wouldn't affect the story line.

But what I couldn't understand is how someone in my time could possibly predict The Hunger Games. And I thought fiction authors lied for a living. With every thought, this felt more like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

"So… Why aren't you in a tribute costume?" Canton asked.

"It's kind of hard to explain," I said. "How many tributes are left?"

"Well someone hasn't been paying much attention," he said. I was getting very irritated by his attitude. "Counting the two of us, there are fourteen tributes left."

Technically, there were fifteen tributes left if you counted both of us; I hadn't been reaped, I'd just been transported to a Games that was already in progress. "What district are you from?" I asked.

"Eight."

This is where an extreme fan girl amount of knowledge would come in handy. What was the specialty in District 8? Was it something he could use to help me fix the time machine? I went over the known list in my head.

_District 1: Luxury items_

_District 2: Masonry and weapon making_

_District 3: Electronics_

_District 4: Fishing_

_District 5:_

_District 6:_

_District 7: Lumber and paper_

_District 8:_

_District 9:_

_District 10:_

_District 11: Agriculture_

_District 12: Coal mining_

Out of twelve districts, I couldn't remember five of the industries. This wouldn't have upset me if me life didn't indirectly depend on it.

Instead, I tried thinking of other options. If I survived for as long as I could and lasted until, say, the top ten or eight tributes, then there would be less bloodthirsty teens out to get me. That way, I could go back to the time machine with Canton and possibly fix it before anyone even knew we were around. I could even take Canton to the past if he wanted.

"So, what exactly is your game strategy, Canton?" I asked him. "Waiting silently, or seeking blood?"

"Waiting silently," he answered, taking a knife out of the backpack. I knew I had to trust him, so I had to resist all natural instincts to step away from the sharp object. He continued, "When you're from eight, the worst thing you can do to someone is sew the ends of their sleeves shut."

So District 8 obviously had something to do with clothing. Well, I guess he could fix and tears that the hostile girl might have made in the seat cushions by now.

If he had a needle and thread, that is.

"Considering we're allies, I should probably go with your plan?" I said. Even if he said no, I still wasn't cool with the idea of killing anyone.

"Yeah, you'd better. If it's worked for me so far, then it'll most likely work for the rest of the Games."

I didn't really think this was amazing logic, but it would have to do for the time being. I thought of one more thing. "I'm Haley, by the way."


	5. Chapter 5

**Important: If you have not read the whole Hunger Games trilogy, do not continue this story unless you want spoilers. I've forgotten to put that in earlier chapters.**

**And I apologize for not updating this morning, like usual. I was distracted by a YouTube video that was uploaded on Monday. "All I Want For Christmas Is You - Anthem Lights". You should check it out ;) They're my favorite band.**

* * *

So, Canton and I stayed quiet for the next few days. We would spend a whole day in one spot, then move to another when night came. In the first book, Katniss never said how uneventful and slightly boring each day was. I mean, it was a good thing, but still. Canton and I barely spoke- probably out of fear. With each step, we wandered further and further away from the precious time machine.

I was extremely apprehensive at all times, but especially at night. We didn't sleep in trees, or in caves. No, there were none of those we could use. So we slept on the ground, taking turns watching. I spent most of my watch time mentally counting how long it would be until Canton's turn. Even if I heard a leaf slightly rustle, I would have to resist the screaming urge.

But it was on the fourth day that we heard three cannons in a row. Canton and I looked at each other. "Who do you suppose that was?" I asked. I'd learned the names of a few tributes from him saying them, but none were significant.

"I guess we'll find out tonight." Canton continued to attempt sharpening his knife on a rock. Just watching him made me nervous. What if it somehow came down to just us? Would Canton's desire to escape Panem override his desire to win and go home safely to his family? I hoped so. It was then that I remembered that, in the book, District 8 was one of the very first districts to rebel against the Capitol. I wondered if he felt so strongly opposed to the Capitol along with the rest of his district. True, the third Quarter Quell wasn't for another ten years, but I assumed that everyone beyond District 4 was tired of the games right now anyway.

Counting the two of us, there were now nine tributes left. I dearly hoped my unexpected presence in the Games didn't indirectly cause harm to some important book character. Haymitch, maybe? No, not him. He'd won the second Quarter Quell fifteen years before. I wondered how long it was after his win that he began getting drunk on purpose.

"Canton?" I said. "Do you know Haymitch Abernathy?"

"I know _of _him," he said. "I wasn't alive when he won the Quarter Quell, but I saw him around before this Games. Knowing how that drunk trains people, the District 12 tributes are probably some of the people that died today."

"What about Johanna Mason?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "If they aren't a part of the Games, or if they didn't come from my district, I don't know them."

So Johanna obviously hadn't won her Hunger Games yet.

"What about-"

"Will you stop asking me these stupid questions?" Canton said.

"I just have one more. Do you know who Finnick Odair is?"

Surprisingly, he scoffed. "Who doesn't? Everyone in the Capitol already loves him."

"Already?"

"Yeah. I bet he's eating some food that they sent him right now. He could even be right behind me and I wouldn't know it."

Did he mean what I think he meant? I dearly hoped not.

I must have looked a deathly pale. Canton waved a hand in front of my face. "Are you alright, Haley?" Well, that was a start in our alliance. It was the first time he'd actually called me by name.

Instead of nodding, I just turned and took him by the shoulders. "Canton, I need a completely honest, non-sarcastic answer to this question: is Finnick Odair one of the tributes in this arena?"

"Of course. I would've thought you paid better attention to the replay of the reapings."

It all made sense now. The 65th annual Hunger Games- the year Finnick won. I could just imagine the announcer saying, "May the odds that Finnick kills you painlessly be ever in your favor."

Oh no, there was no way I was about to be speared by an extremely attractive guy who was technically 200 years younger than me.

See, as far as Hunger Games characters go, I think Katniss should have died in place of Finnick. I mean, have you ever met someone who says Katniss is their absolute _favorite _Hunger Games character? I think not. She's kind of irritating, actually.

While all of my friends were either Team Peeta or Team Gale (but mostly Team Peeta), I called myself a member of Team Finnick. Yes, he became a prostitute, but definitely not by choice. If he hadn't, the Capitol would have murdered his family and his beautiful little Annie. In the third book, he's literally the sweetest guy in the world. He's also the only one who doesn't hate everything, or want to strangle Katniss, thank you very much.

So, now what? If Finnick didn't kill me, it would affect the whole Hunger Games plot line. There was never anything about a girl who came from the past in any of the books. Maybe, in order to prevent a rebellion, the Capitol never showed any scenes with me in them. What if I was ultimately playing in to the story? What if a girl from 2012 actually did get transported into Finnick's Hunger Games, but it wasn't mentioned? I mean, no one but the Capitol and Finnick would know...

Excuse the line quoting, but I felt like a piece in these Games.

I needed to get back to the time machine as quickly as possible before everyone else got killed off and Finnick was in search of the remaining tributes A.K.A. Canton and I. But at this rate, we were probably miles away from the machine- it would probably take a week if we walked.

"Canton, how fast can you run?" I asked.

"I'm decent," he replied, putting the knife in the backpack. Considering I just asked him how fast he could run, I would've kept the weapon out if I were him.

"I have to get back to my starting point," I said. "If you want to get out of this arena without killing anyone, you should come with me."

Canton laughed. "You think I believe you? Look, you seem like a nice person, Haley. But the Capitol is so incredibly in control that there's no way out of here except in a hovercraft- whether you're dead or a victor."

"No, really, I have a way out."

He shook his head. "Sorry. I'd rather attempt killing off the beautiful Finnick Odair than make a fool of myself."

"But-"

"I think we should probably split up now," Canton interrupted, swinging the backpack over his shoulder. "If it comes down to you and me….. Well, I really don't want it to."

I guess I would just have to find the time machine myself.

I watched him walk away from me, his muscles tense. In a competition where your life was at stake, nothing was easy. I thought about it more. Living in Panem would be like living a nightmare. If you get reaped, you're most likely to die. If you win, you will have witnessed twenty-three deaths, and your family, friends, and future children are still at stake. You also have to mentor two innocent kids every year for the rest of your life and watch the majority of them be killed.

I wanted to call him back- to tell him the truth, and ask if he could trust me one more time. To tell him that I wasn't really a tribute or a Panem citizen at all, and that I might be able to get us to the past.

I thought about how I even came here in the first place. Were our paths somehow meant to cross, so that I might even save the future from happening? I didn't know. It suddenly made sense why I was in Finnick's Hunger Games, and not the one in the first Hunger Games book. I had left the time set as 200 years in the future- not 210. The machine must have somehow analyzed the book and brought me to an anonymous place in Panem, which just happened to be in the arena. Note to self: Next time you build a time machine, add a "Destination" panel.

Who was I kidding? There wasn't going to be a next time.

I was just about to say Canton's name, to tell him the truth, when I saw a spear-like object come out of nowhere and bury itself in his side. Canton immediately dropped to the ground, and a boy pulled the weapon out of him. The boy set his eyes on me now.

I screamed and only thought of running. But what was the use of running when he could easily throw the spear and hit me in the back? So I stood behind a large tree. It was idiotic, but there were no other options. I heard the cannon fire, signifying that Canton was dead.

He came around the tree and had the object raised, ready to throw. But a strange expression came across his face when he saw me. "You're not a tribute."

How could he tell? Sure, I wasn't in the traditional costume, but the only other way to tell was if he had watched the reapings in extreme detail and didn't recognize me from them. "No, I'm not. You're not supposed to kill me," I managed to say.

"And what's to stop me?" He said. "I'm just a big show for the Capitol."

That was when I noticed something about the weapon he had in his right hand- it was a trident, with three deadly points on each tip.

I was talking to Finnick Odair.

"I'm not a tribute. I'm not even from Panem. I'm from North America," I said, hoping desperately that he believed me.

Finnick looked very confused, but still very deadly at the same time. "How am I supposed to trust you with a story like that?"

"I don't know. But I hope you do. You don't want to kill me- you don't want to kill anyone. You're a sweet guy named Finnick who isn't nearly as brutal as some of the other people out here."

Now he was amused. "Really? You don't even know me."

I wanted to say that I did, because I'd re-read the memorable Finnick-scenes in the books over and over, but then I remembered something.

Career tributes trained illegally for the Games their whole life. They killed anyone and everyone they could.

District 4 was one of the Career districts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: Just to let you know, my updates might be kind of irregular for awhile. I'll post as often as I can.**

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I gulped. I had to continue- he looked more ready to throw at every second. "I do know you. Your name is Finnick Odair, you're fourteen years old, and you're from District 4."

"Spot on. But that's not enough."

"You have a friend named Annie." I wasn't actually sure if this was true yet. Who knows? Finnick and Annie could have become friends after he won.

But recognition crossed his face. His stance and expression didn't change, but he asked, "How do you know about Annie?"

"Because I read it in the Hunger Games trilogy."

More confusion.

"Would you like me to explain?"

Suspicion crossed his face. "Go ahead."

"Can you at least put the trident down first?" I asked.

Finnick tensed slightly. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You can- take it from one human being to another." I was struggling for breath. "No one deserves to die like this."

He slowly approached me and said, "Put your hands in the air."

I did, and he felt my pockets, while still holding the trident in a defensive manner. Then he pressed down on the Toms I was wearing to make sure they were free of weapons. They weren't technically Toms- they were just some cheap knockoff that my mom had bought me. Lastly, Finnick felt my sides. It probably wasn't awkward for him, but it was for me, with him being my favorite fictional character and all.

He stepped back and threw the trident aside. "Okay, I'm making the choice to believe you. But if you move suspiciously, I can get that trident in no time. Now, how do you know about Annie?"

I then proceeded to tell him everything. I began with the fact that I was from the past. That The Hunger Games was a best-selling book trilogy based in the future, and no one knew it would actually exist. Then I told him about Canton not believing me, and how I needed desperately to get back to my time machine. It all came out in a jumbled mess that sounded like a lie, but I willed him to believe me.

"So, you came from… The past?" He said. I think that was the only part that he had trouble knowing.

I nodded. "I'm from the year 2012. There were no Hunger Games then, and everyone thinks that it's just a fictional idea in a book."

Finnick ran his hand through his hair. "Wow, I guess when everyone rebelled they never imagined what the consequences would be." It seemed like he had mild hostility in his voice. "And now here we are, getting picked off twenty-four at a time, year after year."

"Look, it's not my fault that America…" But I stopped myself. I was going to say that it wasn't my fault that America decided it was too good for the government, but how did I know for sure? I could've even been the leader of the rebellion, if you think about it.

Well, definitely not after this week. When I got home, I was going to convince everyone I knew that we lived in a great country.

Finnick sighed. "Well, I'll help you get back to your machine on one condition."

"What's your condition?"

"When we get there, you have to take Annie and me to the past with you."

I honestly hadn't expected that. There was no way I could take them back with me. I couldn't just affect the entire future of the nation because of one request. Think about it; without Finnick, no one would have found out President Snow's secrets, and it could destroy the entire rebellion, leaving a possible 76th annual Hunger Games and so on. Without Finnick, Peeta would die in eleven years and Katniss would be weaker.

I wanted so badly to be able to take him back with me, but if I did, I would have to take the whole nation of Panem as well.

"I… I can't," I stuttered. "This is the future, and I can't affect it."

"Fine," he said, picking his trident back up. I feared that I would be killed that very moment, but he didn't throw it. "I won't kill you, but you're on your own. Go find the machine by yourself."

I guess I sort of had to.

Well, this was humiliating. It was a good thing I wasn't from Panem, because I wasn't the best with alliances.

As Finnick walked away, I sighed. It would be a long walk and could possibly take more than a day. I decided that I was going to run as much as I could- there was no telling what had become of my time machine.

I went on for hours. _Hours. _It's not fun being a teenage girl and alternating between walking and running without knowing that there will definitely be a shower at the end of the road. When I get extremely tired, my feet start slacking and stepping places I don't want them to. My lungs burned and I began bumping into trees that appeared out of thin air.

I put my hand to my forehead. When I pulled it away, it was completely covered with sweat- like, drenched. I wiped it on the front of my shirt, which didn't do much, as it was also nearly dripping with perspiration.

It was then that I noticed the ground- soft dirt covered in leaves. It looked better than a king size bed at the moment.

Okay, that's an exaggeration. _Nothing _looks better than a king size bed.

I knew that if I didn't go to sleep, my body would for me. So I willed myself to look for a slightly secluded area. The only thing I found within a hundred feet was a fallen tree (probably by the works of the Gamemakers) with shadows that fell around it. I collapsed to the ground in the dark, and heard some sort of anthem come over unseen speakers. I looked to the sky, and just between the trees I could make out some sort of projection above me. The tributes from District 12 were now dead, just like Canton had predicted, along with the girl from District 3, and Canton himself, who I knew only for a few days.

There were seven official tributes left, and me, a poor, confused girl who got mixed up in all of it. What would happen if Finnick somehow killed six people before I got to the time machine and had to be in search of me in order for him to return home to District 4? He would stop at nothing to get home to Annie, and I knew it. Catching Fire clearly stated that he was very physical, which meant he could easily catch up with a 21st century, P.E. slacking, television watching girl. Even if I did reach the machine, I had no idea whether it would work or not, in the case of the girl or some other desperate teenager destroying it or even using it to escape.

I heard two cannons fire, and was so startled that I literally covered my own mouth to stifle my scream. I was so on edge. Sleep might not even be possible….

The screen had just flicked off in the air, but quickly came back on and flashed a picture of a girl who, as the caption said, was from District 9. It was the blonde-haired girl that I'd begun my whole Hunger Games experience with. Somehow, in a strange way, I was slightly sad to see her go. Well, sad isn't exactly the right word. It's just weird knowing that someone who you'd seen in person has just been slaughtered in some way.

The second picture was of the boy from District 11, who did actually look like the movie depiction of Thresh. Almost exactly like him, in fact. I wondered if he could be Thresh's older brother.

I tried to think of the remaining tributes. Really, I have to give Katniss _some _credit for remembering who all was still alive. My memory seemed to fail me in every possible way and instead wanted me to think about the questions on my English test. My sweet, non-science related English test that I'd failed horribly.

Let's see… There was Finnick, his fellow District 4 tribute, the boy and girl from 2, the boy from 1, and…. I didn't know who else. Probably the girl from District 1, but I somehow had vague recollection of seeing her delicate face projected into the night sky.

* * *

I had no idea how I'd fallen asleep without knowing. But I guess I had. And the thing that awoke me was no Mockingjay whistle….

It was the sound of leaves rustling.

"Finnick?" I choked quietly. The rustling stopped, and I stood up. "Finnick?" I said again.

Out from behind a tree came the hostile boy from District 2, knife raised in attack.


	7. Chapter 7

**So, here's the update! Yeah, I know right? Finally. I had fun writing this chapter and I hope you have fun reading it :) **

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I screamed. He was too fast to run away from, and who knew if he could throw knives just as easily?

I knew that this was it- I was going to die in the future, and my family would have no idea what even happened to me. I mentally sighed. It was the first time I'd even been considerate of my family and how worried they were at the time.

He was less than a yard away and my life began to flash before my eyes. But right before his knife touched me, a strong boy interfered and held the District 2 boy's arm up. I was frozen.

The two struggled for a few minutes, tackling each other to the ground and taking fists to the face. District 2 even shed some of my rescuer's blood with his knife. But finally, the newcomer got the knife out of his opponent's hand and threw it to the side.

The winning boy motioned for me to get him something that was by a tree. Upon seeing the thing he was pointing to, I realized that he was Finnick. I picked up the trident, which was heavier than I would have imagined. When I gave it to him, I looked away so I wouldn't have to watch. I heard a sickening sound of metal and the District 2's cries of help. Then the cannon fired.

Finnick stood up and put his hand on my back, leading me away. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Finnick, thank you," I said.

He didn't answer. We just continued walking in silence.

Finally, he leaned against a tree and sighed. "So, you really can't just take Annie back with you?"

My heart clenched. I never knew that, even as friends, Finnick loved Annie enough to send her to a safe place instead of him. But I just couldn't.

"I'm sorry," I said, "But I can't risk the future changing."

"What happens in the future that includes her? Or me, for that matter?" He asked.

Well, it's not like I could tell him, _"You'll get reaped for the third Quarter Quell with Mags, but she'll die and you'll escape to District 13, which is underground, with some other people you have yet to meet. You'll be an essential element to the rebellion and get killed by lizard mutations."_

Yeah, that could really spoil someone's mood…

"I can't tell you," I said vaguely.

"Oh, right. You might 'risk the future changing'."

I wondered if Finnick's sarcasm ever went away, or if it was just always there. "I'm serious," I continued. "If I don't get back to that time machine, the whole nation is in jeopardy."

"The whole nation is already in jeopardy."

I looked into his eyes. "Finnick…. Please. I have to go back to my family."

"Well, so do I," he replied. "But there's no guarantee of that either, now is there?"

I put my hands on my hips. "If I tell you one important thing about you, then will you take me to the machine?"

He fingered the tips on the trident in thought. "It depends. Is it about my future?"

"It's about your very near future."

Finnick crossed his arms. "Fine. Give me one fact and I'll take you to the machine, but that's where the helping stops."

"You'll win this Hunger Games," I said without hesitation and without even thinking of what this could do to the whole pattern of time.

His eyes widened slightly. "I will? I'll go back to District 4?"

Even though he was technically a Career, his innocence seemed that of a normal tribute. I'm sure that deep down, every Career has a desire to go back home. "Yes," I answered. "But that's all I'll tell you."

He put the trident over his shoulder and said, "I guess we'd better start going then. There are only four others left besides me, and it won't be long before they're coming in search of me."

I held him back by the arm. "But it's dark. Any sensible tribute would be trying to sleep right now."

He looked at me. "All of the 'sensible tributes' are dead. Only the bloodthirsty Career pack remains in this game, and they rarely sleep without killing someone first. They're probably hunting us right now."

Finnick pulled his arm away from me, and I didn't like that he was treating me as if I were incompetent. I had survived so far, hadn't I? Sure, I'd be dead two times by now if he hadn't helped or spared me, but that was sort of beside the point.

Okay, not really beside the point.

So there I was, walking again at who knows what unreasonable time. But at least this time I had some protection. I feared that my eyes would close on their own, so I tried to start a conversation.

"So how did you end up near me when the District 2 boy attacked?" I asked, catching up with his quick pace. "I'd been walking for a long time."

"I followed you," he replied, not looking at me. "I wanted to see if you weren't just some crazy girl the Capitol dumped in here to mess with the tributes."

"Crazy is a little too strong of a word… Maybe delusional, but never crazy."

Finnick smiled now. "Precisely."

There was a stall, and I asked, "So do you think the Capitol is going to tell all of its citizens that I really was a crazy girl? I haven't started a rebellion, have I?"

"You probably haven't even been shown on television," he said. "They knew that something was going on, and that there actually _is _a way out of Panem. So they cut out parts with you in them. That's why we need to move quickly and through the night- you're with me now, and you know how those Capitol women just love someone who can throw a trident."

What he was saying made sense. The Capitol wouldn't want a possible escape for the citizens of Panem, so they weren't showing anything about me on TV. From the very beginning, they'd taken out every scene with me in it. When the girl shot an arrow at me. When I hiked all that way with Canton. When Finnick had saved me from the District 2 boy.

And it made sense by him saying that we needed to move quickly. The Capitol wouldn't want to omit many scenes with their most popular tribute, and they might be tempted to wipe me out in some way just so they could resume showing Finnick off.

Governments no longer seemed like a bunch of well-dressed but stupid guys who didn't even understand why the people were angry.

The subject needed to be changed. I decided to go down a more personal route. "Finnick, how long have you known Annie?"

I saw him stiffen slightly, but he answered, "Four years. We had school classes together, and it seemed like I always got paired with her."

I chose my words carefully. "Has she ever been reaped?"

"No." Even in the dark, I could see the emotion in his green eyes. "I don't know what I'd do if she was."

I contemplated that sentence for a while. He didn't know what he'd do, but would have to figure it out eventually. When he won, and she was reaped soon after, he would even have to _mentor _her. I'd never considered that. What would it be like having to train your best friend to defend herself in a fight to the death?

My voice was quiet. I knew that no cameras were on us, and it was safe to ask. "Do you love Annie?"

Finnick didn't answer immediately. But then, he turned and looked at me. "More than you know."

If I had been in my world when I'd heard him say this, I would have had a fan-girl heart attack because it was so sweet. But somehow, I'd greatly matured over the past few days. I never knew that this wasn't just some vaguely stated love story that Suzanne Collins wove into a novel. But now, I realized that Finnick was real, and so was Annie- his beautiful Annie who had crept up on him already.

We walked for at least two more hours before Finnick yawned. "Alright. This is where we rest. You can sleep first while I guard."

There was no significance to this spot compared to any other place that we could have stopped, but I was grateful nevertheless. I practically collapsed onto the leafy ground. It was strange to think that these could have been the same type of leaves that were in our yard back home. Everything here just seemed so surreal.

Right before my eyes closed, I saw Finnick leaning back against a tree, trident in one hand. In a whisper I could just barely make out, he said, "I'll be home soon, Annie."


	8. Chapter 8

**So, I almost got to a hundred views in one day on the last chapter :D Thanks so much!**

**IMPORTANT: Because I immensely enjoy writing humorous pieces, I've begun writing a new series of Hunger Games song parodies that will be published as one story after this story is finished. The story will be made of songs from a very famous movie. BUT I will release the first chapter early if someone correctly guesses the movie that the songs will be from. Please send answers through a message :) I will publish it soon after a correct guess is made and write a special shout-out to anyone who was correct. Otherwise, you will see it after the conclusion of "What's Built In The Basement Doesn't Stay In The Basement".**

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As soon as it became light in the arena, I woke Finnick up. I'd always hated having to be on watch and always would. It seemed like he was immune to the lingering sleep feeling that I always got when I woke up- especially on Mondays.

We continued walking, and even jogged at certain times. The faster we got to the machine, the better. You know, it never it occurred to me that we might even be going in the wrong direction. Every single tree looked nearly the same, and the pools of water that were in random places had no distinction at all. Even if it were some deadly tidal wave or monkey attack like in Catching Fire, I would have loved some sign that we were nearing the time machine. Finnick and I walked side by side, but he kept his eyes on everything around us while I navigated. We were sort of like a Katniss and Gale relationship, except younger and probably much less coordinated. And I couldn't shoot stuff with a bow and arrow. And Finnick had a trident, not some snare or bomb.

Fine, we weren't like Katniss and Gale.

Suddenly, two cannons fired in a row. Finnick and I looked at each other, and the slightest hint of worry came into his eyes for the very first time. There were now only two other tributes in the arena besides him, and our time was running out. We kept walking, but with a slight sense of urgency in our now quickened steps.

Before then, my hunger pains had just been slight. But as we walked on I realized I had to get some food in myself. I hadn't eaten since early in the morning the day before. I looked at Finnick out of the corner of my eye. He probably hadn't even thought about food. Although he lived in District 4, he had, after all, trained for the Games and might have gotten used to hunger.

I managed to last another hour before I absolutely had to say something. "Finnick, are you hungry?"

"Only a little." He looked back at me and raised his eyebrows. "I'm guessing that you are?"

I nodded, though I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of mocking me. "I haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"What did you eat when you were with District 8?"

It seemed odd that he was asking. I answered, "Well, when we ran out of the food that was in his pack, he started digging in the ground to find animals."

Finnick smirked. "Typical."

I put my hands on my hips. "Alright then, smart guy, what have _you _been eating this whole time?"

He smiled confidently. "Food from sponsors. But that doesn't mean I don't know what else there is around here."

He told me to sit on the ground and wait. He began throwing pinecones in the air as high as he could with his left hand, and held the trident in an attacking stance in his right. He was trying to find birds.

It was while I sat behind him at a distance that I realized how strong he was for a fourteen year-old. We were the same age, but somehow he seemed so much older. It could've been that he was raised in Panem, where there is no room for laughter, no matter what district you live in. But the tribute costume was basically a pair of sleek, black sweats and a very tight-fitting v-neck in which I noticed his extreme stature. Canton had also had a jacket, but I supposed Finnick had lost his in some violent fight or something. Or maybe the jacket was in Canton's pack.

The Hunger Games doesn't only affect your physical and emotional health, apparently. My brain hurt from all of the thinking that wasn't about science. I realized that science had been my only real support for a number of months. I had my family and Josh, but neither of them believed in all of the time machine stuff. The only real thing I could count on were a bunch of non-social equations and facts.

If I ever got home, I was going to box up every science-fiction book I had and put it in a dark and secluded corner of the attic. I would get a Facebook and socialize pointlessly over the internet. It wasn't a great plan, but it was a start. I needed to get my life back.

I jumped when Finnick threw down two dead birds in front of me. I had been so occupied with my thinking that I hadn't noticed him take them down. "We'll have to start a fire."

I stood up and willed myself to pick up the poor, dead bird. I wondered if it was a mockingjay. "But won't that give away our position?"

Finnick shook his head and sat down, taking the other bird and pulling feathers off of it. "I have a plan, so just start plucking that bird so we can hurry. Or would you rather not eat?"

I sighed and sat down. I watched him pull feathers off of the animal and nearly threw up. Nearly. And this isn't just some dramatic-high-school-girl-puke, this was for real. I didn't even know if I'd be hungry anymore.

It took me twice as long as my companion, but I finally pulled the last feather off of the bird. Finnick, Mister I'm-So-Cool, had already started a fire and was cooking his bird. He told me to hold the stick of the cooking one and took mine to prepare it for the fire. I didn't even want to watch.

But this time, he was the one who spoke. "So I haven't even thought to ask you your name yet. You know mine, but unfortunately, I don't have a Government Games book that tells me about people from the past."

I laughed. "I'm Haley- Haley Green."

"Haley Green…" He repeated. "And you're…. Thirteen?"

"I'm fourteen, but I'll be fifteen in two months," I answered.

It seemed like he contemplated the information. Then he asked, "So what's it like in your time? I mean, what exactly happens in North America?"

Somehow I wasn't surprised that he asked. "Well, there are a lot of similarities and differences to Panem. In North America, we don't have extreme boundaries between states. States are like districts, only most of them are smaller than districts. The capital of the country is Washington D.C. The government isn't made up of a bunch of men who just want money and rights…. Well, I take that back. But none of them purposely tell people that they're going to ruin things.

"But we don't have a Hunger Games back then. We do have survival television shows, but no one is forced to participate. In fact, teenagers aren't even allowed to compete in them. We have millions of stores that anyone can walk into and shop from. Except Costco- only special people get into Costco."

Finnick took in every word I said with gentle eyes. Just looking into them made my heart want to melt. It was the first time I really got a good look at his face. His hair was a perfect bronze color that almost looked red depending on the amount of light that hit it. It was probably a trademark of District 4 people to have tan skin, because his just looked so natural. When I had been walking beside him, I noticed that he had to be at least half a foot taller than me, and I was already a good 5 foot 3.

But his eyes were what got to me the most. Really, he could have been the worst fighter in the history of the Hunger Games, and had other terrible features, but the Capitol women still would've swooned at the sight of him. The green circles seemed to envelope you and make you feel like you were at the ocean in July. He may have technically been a Career tribute, but his eyes gave me the impression of a boy with a heart of gold. And he did have a heart of gold. Through the sarcastic remarks and brutal trident throwing, I could tell he was nothing less than gentle.

Finnick snapped me out of my thoughts once again. "So, this Costco place… Why do you have to be special?"

"Well, not really 'special'," I replied. "You have to get a membership and show it before you go in. Probably because they need membership money to pay for all the free samples that get eaten."

"Free samples? As in, food?" He asked. "They just hand out food?"

I nodded. "Just a small portion of food. That's the only reason I like going to Costco. The rest of it just reminds me of a warehouse that basically sells whole shipping containments of stuff in one package."

Despite his confused face, Finnick still looked thoughtful in a way. "You know, you have no idea how lucky you are."

I was starting figure that out on my own. Ever since middle school, all I'd wanted to do was get out of my life. I wanted and wanted, and didn't even consider what I already had. A house. Family. Friends. Hope. Freedom. But I was longing for happiness, which was something I would never achieve if I wasn't content with what I already had.

We didn't speak for a while. I ate my bird, which tasted much better than I'd expected, and Finnick even gave me half of his. Forget the winner of Survivor- Finnick could kill them all in two seconds.

After we finished, he told me to throw the bones on the remaining fire, and I did. Surprisingly, he left the fire going and picked up his silver trident. Then he took my hand. "Can you run?" He asked.

I nodded, and I found out that his true version of running was very different from mine. His long legs moved so incredibly fast that I almost had to let go of his hand. But we couldn't separate. I suddenly knew why he left the fire going. Although the ground was flat everywhere and the trees were tall and un-climbable, any near tribute could see the light of the fire. They would see it still going and would assume that the ignorant and naïve tribute that made it would still be nearby.

But there was a flaw in his plan. The only two tributes who would see our fire were Careers. And if they had paid attention, they would know that there were only Career districts left. They would know that it was a trick by another smart opponent and would come after us because of the very subtle trail of trampled leaves that we had made while we ran.

I was just about to ask Finnick to stop so I could breathe, when he froze automatically. But it wasn't because of fatigue. I looked in front of us, and the District 1 boy stood there calmly, like he had been waiting for us. There was a long sword in his right hand.

Without hesitation, Finnick pushed me brutally behind himself. And it was just in time, too. The District 1 boy had thrown a knife straight toward me and it now lay on the ground behind me. As his sword rose, the trident was thrown and now stuck out of him disgustingly. The cannon fired.

Finnick pulled it out of him and I shuddered. He turned and must have seen the horror on my face. I stood up and didn't even think before I ran to his open arms. Although it wasn't a romantic hug, I still liked it. Finnick knew what he was doing, and he protected me- that was all I needed for comfort right now.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said. It was one of the first times he'd actually been sympathetic of my situation. And I couldn't think of a better time…. I'd just witnessed a murder up close, and had almost been a victim myself.

"Thank you."

I pulled away and noticed now that my arm was bleeding. It really wasn't anything to worry about- just a two inch long scratch- but Finnick still helped me out by tearing off a mostly ripped portion of his sleeve and telling me to hold it to my arm. "You need it more than I do," he told me. "I'll be home soon anyway."

We got away from the dead tribute as quickly as we could and I noticed how the hovercraft lingered, even after they'd pulled him up. They were watching us. And with only two real tributes remaining, I couldn't blame them.

"Finnick," I whispered, "We need to run. _Now._"

He didn't even need me to tell him why. He picked up the trident and we set off, running as fast as we possibly could. We didn't hold hands this time, and that saved me from almost tripping over his feet this time.

But as I looked back to see if there was some menacing Career behind us, I fell. But I'd fallen on something. I stood up and saw what I was on. There, sitting with a large whole in the side of its engine box, was the time machine.


	9. Chapter 9

**This is where it starts to get exciting... Be warned that you will wonder what happens- maybe even intensely ;)**

**Also, shout out to HPvsHG, who asked me to update as soon as possible!**

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"Finnick!" I exclaimed. "This is it!"

He looked at it strangely. "This is the machine?"

"Yes!" I took the cloth from his shirt off my arm and quickly began examining the hole in the side of the engine box. It was the size of a microwave at least, and I dearly hoped that the engine hadn't been harmed.

I flipped up the seat (which cushions hadn't been harmed) and felt the engine, which wasn't even warm because it hadn't been used in days. To my complete dismay, there was a hole the size of my fist in the metal, and some wires inside had been damaged. I leaned back and buried my face in my hands.

Finnick hadn't said anything, but now he looked at the hole. "Can you fix it?" He asked.

I shook my head regretfully.

"But… There has to be some way."

I looked at him. "It took more than six months for me to complete this thing. How am I supposed to fix it in seconds when I don't even have any tools?"

He bent down and looked inside. He reached his hands in and pulled out both parts of a wire that had snapped in half. Without saying a word, Finnick started a fire thirty feet away by striking his trident's point on a rock to make a spark. He waited, then took a hot stick from the fire. Somehow, and I really don't know how he did, he melted the wires together. I noticed that the on switch now had a light behind it, just like it used to.

"How did you do that?" I asked. Sure, I knew how to melt wires together, but I never thought a stick from the fire would be hot enough or that a boy from District 4 could do it.

"When you've watched The Hunger Games on television your whole life," he said, working on another wire, "You pick up on some things that the District 3 tributes do."

I watched like an idiot for at least ten minutes. Finnick was working on the last few wires, and night was coming more quickly than I wanted it to. Then I realized what was missing.

I hit myself in the head. "No! Why didn't I think of that before?"

"What?" Finnick said.

"The book! I need the book to be able to get back!"

He stood up. "The Hunger Games book?"

"Yes! The machine didn't work the first time I tried it because it didn't know where I wanted to go. When I took the book on the time machine with me, it brought me here," I explained. "And now the book is gone!"

"Calm down," he said. "Someone probably found your time machine and took the book to read it."

That didn't help. I could just imagine some poor tribute reading the book about the future of Panem and not seeing another person come up behind them and kill them. Then the teenager would be lifted into the air, as would the book that was the key to my trip home.

And it would be worse if some Capitol official read the book and found out about the girl on fire, who was foreshadowed to start a rebellion.

"Finnick," I said slowly, "I need to get the book back. In my own stupidity I never even remembered the item that made this whole trip work. We came all this way just to have to go back again. Well, I'll have to go back again, but you don't."

"You're not going by yourself, Haley."

"What?" I said. "You said, and I quote, '…I'll take you to the machine, but that's where the helping stops'. You've gotten me here, and you're even fixing the wires for me."

He singed the final wire back together and stood up. It almost seemed like he had a smile creeping up on his face. "Sure I said that. But when can you ever trust what a Career says?"

Now I smiled.

"So, what's the plan?" Finnick asked, killing the fire that he'd made. "We can't just leave the machine here again."

"And it wouldn't be safe to split up," I said. "Whoever the last person is, they won't care whether I'm a tribute or not if they see me."

He nodded, leaning against the tall back of the machine. "Decisions, decisions…"

"At this point, I don't care whether I go back to 2012 or not," I thought aloud. "I wouldn't care going back to when I was a sixth grader and making things right."

I could tell that neither of us wanted to go walking around the woods again, looking for a book. Finnick didn't even know what it looked like, either. But for some reason, he came and sat beside me on the seat of the time machine.

"Let's not think about that right now," he said. "Let's say you do get home, and you're happy beyond belief. What would you do first?"

It didn't take me long to answer. "I would go to my family. They're probably freaking out right now."

"That's just what I'm going to do when I get back to District 4," he said. "What would you do after that?"

"Shower."

Finnick laughed. "Typical."

I continued, thinking of a whole bunch of things at once. "I would throw out any sci-fi books I have. Then I would call Josh and tell him I'm alright. Then I would probably tear the time machine apart. After that I would probably start a Facebook so I have more opportunities to talk to my friends, since I'm going to be grounded for two hundred years- the punishment will really fit the crime on that one."

"What's a Facebook?" He asked.

"It's like a super dramatic soap opera, but on the internet."

His expression signified that my answer couldn't have been any more confusing.

"Alright," I began, "In my time, we have things called computers. I'm sure the Capitol has some advanced form of them now, but anyway, we have our own computers. There's this thing called 'internet', and it's made up of millions of websites that all have different purposes. The internet connects all over the world. Facebook is one of the websites, and each person that is older than twelve can have their own account. On their account, they can talk to their friends, post pictures, and see all of the things that their friends are doing just the same."

"Okay…." He said, trailing off. I didn't have a better explanation than that, so Facebook would just have to be a mystery to Finnick.

Noticing how talking about all the comforts of home relaxed me, I proceeded to tell him about more people and technology of our time. I started with cell phones, then went on to things like rockets and cable TV.

After telling him about movie actors and defining the word "hipster", Finnick asked, "What is your family like?"

I hadn't thought about telling him that. I started out slow. "Well, my dad is a banker, so he deals with money a lot. My sister and I have been saving for college since kindergarten. He's also the one who got me started on the whole science thing."

"You don't hold anything against him for it, do you?" He asked.

"Of course not. He didn't mean for my obsession to get out of hand," I said. Even though he had a lack of information about what went on in my time period, it seemed like Finnick asked all the right questions to make me think about things from a different perspective.

"So, you have a sister?" He said. "That's nice. I don't have any siblings."

"But you have Annie."

"True, but we even fight like brother and sister sometimes." He laughed. "Besides, don't you have a close friend?"

"I have Josh," I said. "He helped me build the time machine."

"Is he your love interest?"

I laughed harder than I had in a week. "Definitely not. He's just a friend."

If Finnick and I had been from the same time, I was sure that we would be friends. Even though I'd only met him a few days before, we already talked with ease and trust. I only wished I could take him with me. The poor guy would be forced into a life of prostitution and the mentoring of teenagers who would die at the cruel hands of another teenager.

"Finnick…." I began, knowing that what I said could affect the future in extreme amounts. "I want you to-"

He covered my mouth and looked around, then froze when he looked in front of us. Concealed in the bushes was a boy who I hadn't seen, but really should have been hard to miss. He was easily six feet tall and held a sword at his side.


	10. Chapter 10

"Haley…." Finnick whispered, while still keeping sharp eyes on the boy. "Get down."

It's not like I was going to question that. I immediately ducked down behind the front panel of the machine and heard the other boy approaching rapidly.

Finnick sprung up quickly to get the trident, which he'd leaned against the side of the time machine. But the boy with the sword was very quick. Finnick had no time to throw the trident, and the two began to practically sword fight. There was an advantage with the trident, though, because it had three spikes instead of just one.

They continued to slice at each other and tried to stab the other in the stomach. That was when I heard a low, malicious crackling. I looked around, trying desperately to see what the noise was. To my horror, a huge tree began falling, and the two tributes were directly in its path.

"Finnick!" I screamed. "Look out!"

He saw the tree and immediately ran backwards, as did the other boy. The tree slammed the ground between them and almost caused me to fall over from my already-sitting position. That was when a new phenomenon began- the ground started to split underneath the tree.

"Haley!" Finnick shouted over the noise of the rumbling earth. "Run!"

I couldn't leave the machine- it was directly in the path of the newly forming fault line. Then a startling thought hit me. _This is all because of me. _

It made perfect sense. The Gamemakers couldn't even show this exciting finale because they had me and/or the time machine in every shot. They wanted to eliminate me completely, and might even accidentally kill Finnick in the process.

What would I do? This whole project was one huge, selfish mistake that could cost the life of Finnick, and ultimately destroy the country. My ungratefulness was unbearable and I'd never even realized it. I had let my emotions get out of hands and now someone had to die because of it- and that someone wasn't going to be Finnick.

I cautiously walked over to the fault line. At the very bottom of the pit was water that probably had unfathomable depth. I needed to jump in as quickly as possible so there would at least be some hope for the two remaining fighters. And then I saw it.

It was tattered, speckled in blood, and soaked with water. But most importantly, it had just fallen out of the other boy's jacket.

_The book._

I couldn't jump over the crack… Or could I? Just by looking I could tell that I'd never gone that far in a single jump before. But there was no other choice. It was either die fighting, or die willingly.

I quickly went back all the way to the time machine. Then, against all of the words streaming through my brain, I ran as fast as I could and jumped in the air.

The world seemed to move in slow motion. The other side of the fault seemed to be getting nearer, and yet it seemed so far. I heard a yell. "Haley! No!"

I began to descend and knew that it was all over. My dreams, my ideas- my life.

I closed my eyes and put my hands out far in front of me instinctively. I suddenly felt intense pain in my wrist. I looked and saw that it had been stabbed by a rock on the ground.

_On the ground!_

My hands were hanging on to the edge.

I dangled from the side that continued to move away from the other. I felt as if one of my legs had gone numb and couldn't move. It was then that I remembered the way it had slammed against the wall of the crack when I grabbed the edge. There was no way I was getting up from this.

Suddenly, the sound of stabbing filled the air. Who had just been crowned victor?

It was in moments that the fault began to move back together… Quickly. I screamed. If the other boy had won the battle, I would rather die quickly by a sword than be squeezed to death or drown in a bottomless pit of water.

But within seconds, Finnick was in front of me, taking my arms and pulling me up. My foot barely escaped being caught as the thing shut, but I was out just in time. I saw the blood on his neck, which was only minor compared to the wound beneath it. Of course he would live, but the cut would've taken a long time to heal if he would not be at the hands of Capitol doctors, who could correct practically any physical mistake. I couldn't stand, and he saw this, so I put my arm around his shoulder and we walked toward the book. The last cannon of the 65th Hunger Games fired.

"Why did you jump?" He asked, almost in a scolding tone. "I told you to run."

"I didn't know how long the fight would last, and running wouldn't magically make the time machine disappear. I was about to just jump in the hole when I saw the book on the ground," I answered in a strenuous tone. "But now, we need to hurry. Who knows how quickly they'll come to get their victor…. And me, their new captive."

We picked up our pace and went as fast as possible with his wounded neck and my broken leg. I picked up the book, and surprisingly, I didn't want to toss it down. Normally, a book covered in blood and water would have disgusted me. But now I almost wanted to hug it because of its importance.

We went back over to the time machine and I set the book on the seat. I turned to Finnick and almost cried. "So, this is where we say goodbye?"

"I think so," he said. "You need to go back to where it's safe."

It was strange thinking that I'd never see him again. To think he only had about eleven years of his life left, and that he would die so young. When there was a person as rare as he was, they shouldn't have to die that early.

Without even thinking, I threw my arms around his sides and hugged him tightly. He hugged me back.

"I'll miss you," I said.

There was silence for a moment. Then Finnick said, "I'm going to die, aren't I?'

How did he know? I stood up straight. "What's important is living while you can."

I heard a strange bird whistle that could've been a mockingjay- and apparently, it was. There was a hovercraft above us in seconds, and I quickly sat on the seat of the time machine. Instead of Finnick grabbing hold of the ladder, a man from the flying object came down and immediately injected something into his shoulder which caused him to faint.

I almost called out Finnick's name, but the man whipped out a gun of some sort and, before I even had time to think, shot something from it. I felt a needlelike stab in my neck and pulled out the dart.

My vision began to go dark. I frantically flipped the machine on and set the time to 200 years before. Right as my arm started to numb, I pulled the orange lever. As the world whirred around me, I fell into a deep and unavoidable sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**You didn't think that I would make the ending ****_that_**** quick, did you? :)**

* * *

"Haley!"

I heard the voice, yet somehow couldn't distinguish it.

"Haley!"

No matter how many times the person called, I didn't recognize the voice and could not see anything. But just as I was about to tell them this, something cold and wet hit me in the face.

I sat bolt upright. "Finnick!" I screamed, panting and soaked. But as I looked around, I realized that I was in the basement of my own house.

"Oh, Haley!" My dad said, throwing his arms around my neck. "I'm so glad you're back!"

"Dad?" I questioned. Everything around me was still blurry, but I knew it was him now.

"She's back!" He suddenly yelled. "Everybody, come down here! She's back!"

It seemed like I heard a thousand pairs of feet running down the stairs. Before I knew it, my mom and sister were both holding me tightly as well.

* * *

For weeks, all I heard were questions. What was it like in the future? Were the people any different looking? Were there flying cars?

Right, like I was going to answer any of those….

I simply told everyone that I couldn't explain what had happened to me. Without mystery, the future is just a fate that everyone knows they will eventually fall in to. Sure, I was going to send a letter to Suzanne Collins and ask to meet her, so we could discuss the whole matter of her books and how she knew about The Hunger Games, but I wasn't going to tell her about what I'd actually done there.

My leg had been broken, just like I'd assumed. But I didn't mind staying in my soft, comforting bed that no one had to guard at night. It gave me time to think- time to think about Finnick. What had the man done to him? He wouldn't have killed him, since that ignited rebellious fire. Had he given him a mind-wipe sort of thing? That made sense. They wouldn't want Finnick remembering the whole situation. Besides, the man shot me as well with a tranquilizer dart. I knew that they would have taken me in to the Capitol's darkest dungeon and prodded me for information about time travel and how I built the machine. Finnick never would have let them do that. So, they erased his memory of the situation and now everything was back to the way it was supposed to be.

Josh visited me many times while I was stranded in my room. He asked all of the same questions, but I still didn't budge on my resolve not to tell anyone.

"I have to say, I didn't think the machine would work," he admitted honestly.

"What, you thought I was some neglected and emotional female who was resorting to science instead of food or the internet?" I asked, laughing on the inside.

"Well, I didn't want to make it _that _obvious…."

I hit his arm and we both laughed.

"So, you're not going to tell me anything about the future, are you?" Josh said. "Not even what time you went to?"

I though about saying no, but he was the only one that had asked so far. So I simply said, "I went two hundred years."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You mean, the world won't be nonexistent by then?"

I laughed again. "You've been watching too many movies."

"They're my only escape from reality."

I shook my head. "Typical." When that word came out of my mouth, I got a bittersweet memory and closed my eyes. Finnick had said that to me just the other day.

Really, we girls are too emotional.

"Is something wrong?" Josh asked.

"No, I'm fine. I just…. It's not something I can tell you."

"Oh, another part of the future you're not telling me about. I understand." He gave me a pretend sad face.

I then proceeded to hit him on the arm once again.

Once my leg was well enough for me to venture down to the basement, I visited my friend/enemy, the time machine.

It was scratched all over and had an even larger hole in the side than it had in the arena. It must've gotten larger on the strenuous trip back to the past. Although I wanted to smash the living daylights out of the entire contraption, I calmly picked up a pair of wire cutters and reached into the hole. It was strange to think that the last person who had touched these very wires was probably doing a victory interview in the Capitol or getting the wound on his neck mended right now, two hundred years later.

With one snip, the whole machine shut down. I guess no one had gone to turn it off while I was stranded in bed. I didn't exactly know how it hadn't overheated, but hey, I'll take it.

The next day I asked my dad to buy me a piece of metal as big as the hole that I showed him. He was worried, of course, that I was trying to fix the machine and take another spontaneous trip to tomorrow-land, but I assured him that this was just part of the burial of my sci-fi life for good. At that, he bought the metal without hesitation.

After attaching the new metal with Velcro (the method that always worked) and using some of the wood that we had in our garage, the machine was outwardly fixed. But I knew that if anyone tried to turn it on, they would only be met with the sound of nothingness. The machine wasn't going to be destroyed, but it was going to stay in the attic with all of the science books.

As my dad scooted the item into the back corner of our dark attic, he told me to meet him downstairs for dinner in a few minutes. I was left alone in the room with my machine.

I walked over to it and felt its smooth, sanded wood. This thing that I'd worked so hard on now meant next to nothing. I'd wasted more than half a year of my life on it, hiked painfully through a forest to find it, and jumped over a deadly fault line to make it work. And now, here it was, sitting in the attic along with old yearbooks, glassware, and baby toys.

I sat on the cushions for one last time, closing my eyes. The only truly peaceful experience I'd had during my trip was sitting on these very cushions, conversing all the comforts of home with Finnick Odair. I'd wanted to come home more than anything, and now that I was here, I missed him. I never imagined that I'd miss anything from that time period, but I did.

Somehow, my hand wound up sliding itself into the gap between cushions. I felt something. It was fabric, but not the rough fabric of the old couch seating. It almost felt like a shirt….

I pulled the piece of cloth out and nearly broke down crying at the sight of it. It was the part of Finnick's shirt that he'd ripped off and given to me for my cut. All signs of the cut were gone now, except for the fabric that I'd been given for it by the boy I already missed more than anything.

I shoved it into my pocket, not caring about the dried blood on part of it. I turned off the already dim light in the attic and gave a final look at the time machine, which was now only a shadow in the corner. I'd done so much with it, but it meant nothing now.

Time is mysterious. Anyone who tries to predict it will only come up with discontentment. The only thing we can do is work on the present. With whatever we have, we need to make our everyday lives exciting beyond belief.

My final words to Finnick Odair: "What's important is living while you can."

The End

* * *

**In case you didn't know, I have begun writing a new series of humorous one-shots. The first one is already published. The series is called, "The Sound of The Hunger Games".**

**On another note, I can not express in words how grateful I am for all of the kind reviews. They motivated me and immediately improved whatever mood I was in. Thank you so, so much! And a special shout out to those who reviewed every chapter :D I will begin betareading as soon as FanFiction will let me, so if you saw something you liked, I'd love to edit your piece.**


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